Along Came Sunshine
by rinaissance
Summary: .


_Disclaimer: GA is not mine._

Blame my new penname for the plot and title of this fic. No, no. The summary may sound dramatic and angst-filled, but the fic in general isn't.

Yeah right. /kicks a non-existent stone/

Ouch.

**Along Came Sunshine**  
-bittersunshine-

Prologue: Sandcastles

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"Discharged from your parole already? Just when I thought you'd still be in prison for another good five years."

Natsume grunted, before nonchalantly settling on a charcoal coloured sofa across from the disgruntled face of his father.

"Disappointed that much?" asked Natsume, as he fiddled with a page of a magazine, which amusingly showcased a photo of him being release from a two-month parole. "Certainly not the first time I ever lived in prison, but definitely the longest."

Mr. Hyuuga could only look at his son with cynical delight. Placing down his cup of tea with its handle peacefully slotted in between his right thumb and forefinger, he said, "Why you still take part in gang fights _at that age_ and _with_ _that _supposed intelligent brain of yours, I will never know."

On the other hand, Natsume could only raise an inquisitive brow at his father's remark. "And here I thought you were the older and therefore the more sensible."

"Your point being?"

The raven haired lad heaved a sigh, as he curved his back against the woollen softness of the couch, "It was a spur of the moment. Had I not beaten those fools to death, Aoi and I would have been deadly hospitalised."

"Exactly Natsume. You beat them to death. Well, near to death, I amend. All of them ended with two broken ribs each. One was diagnosed with a severe head concussion, who by the way just recovered from amnesia a month ago. The other was sent to an operating room after a broken rib poked his heart - I'm glad he survived. Thankfully, the third one, aside from his broken ribs, didn't suffer any more injuries," Mr. Hyuuga darkly chuckled.

The younger Hyuuga slyly beamed at his father. "It seems like what astonished you the most is not the length of time I spent in prison, dad, but the hyperbolic severity of damage those three have incurred from me. Four months of imprisonment plus two months of being out on parole certainly wasn't enough."

"Perhaps you could still be in prison had those three not been underage drinkers, and had Aoi not been with you." said Mr. Hyuuga, bringing himself to a standing position, as he eyed his son with wary.

After sensing that the atmosphere turned darker than before, Natsume straightened his back and shifted his glance from the couch across him, to his father's eyes. "Don't give me that look."

"They're not happy with it Natsume. The councilors of the company, I mean. They were incessantly going on about how you, _the heir_, affected the company's image after that little fight of yours, and various other things you've done prior to that."

Natsume looked back at the table then to the manila envelope lying before him. "Which is why they wanted me to do this? To see if I was worthy enough? Scratch that. To see if I was of _any_ value?"

Mr. Hyuuga scrunched his face, wrinkles surfacing his coarse forehead as a sign of old age. "It is a responsibility you were aware of from the beginning."

Flipping his left palm in midair, Natsume nonchalantly dismissed his father's statement, "Fine, fine, fine. I'll just do this easy-peasy job and get the councilors to stick their throats up their arses."

"It's not an easy job," the older Hyuuga stated, as a matter-of-factly. "In a countryside Natsume. Somewhere in South Hokkaido. How you'll manage to live there is beyond my imagination."

Natsume snickered. "I have enough money to live a normal life anywhere, you know."

"Money isn't the problem, the environment is."

Folding his arms at the back of his head, Natsume resumed his idle posture earlier. "I'd be lying if I say I'm looking forward to this, but will I ever be allowed to say no?"

"Not really," his father smiled. "You've done too much damage this time."

And he was gone.

At 28, Hyuuga Natsume thought he is far too young to be held responsible for his family's welfare, or rather the safety of their family's wealth, and it's been years since he became aware of how the weight of it all might clip the wings of his single marital status.

And man, it will.

A few years from now or months or days, he reckoned, his title as a playboy - no matter how cliché the growth from immaturity to maturity sounds - will be erased from present-day records. Soon, instead of drowning himself in several pints of alcohol every night, occasionally getting involved with the opposite sex, throwing himself in the limelight during weekends, his head will be buried into a pile of bank accounts, jammed lever arch files and other horrid forms of business necessities, all of which he's intending to tackle in a lackadaisical manner. Whether his father will approve of it or not, Natsume didn't want to care.

And now, responsibility required him to do _this. _

Go to the countryside which - _oh heavens! _- he didn't know existed and help the townspeople. It was that, or lose the rights over his future financial security.

What was at stake didn't bother Natsume (at least not yet), but the condition did. The word help was too generalised, too broad, and this fact, troubled him in a way. On one side of the spectrum, he felt it was too easy, on the other, it was unnerving to know what the word 'help' means in the councilors' dictionaries.

"Oh well, I haven't played in a while anyway."

However, for Hyuuga Natsume, lending a helping hand was a form of amusement.

--

Sakura Mikan has always been fond of mornings.

It was neither because of the sunshine's warmth that spreads through her body like wildfire nor the hopeful vibe it emits, but the number of smiles that graced the townspeople's faces as they busied themselves with work.

Mikan gave a small smile to herself as the salinity of the ocean wafted in the air. Walking along the harbour with a wooden basket slung over her right arm, she greeted rather cheerfully, "Good morning! I hope all of you had a nice evening!"

A few heads turned to her, and as Mikan had anticipated, none of them bore the same welcoming expression as hers. Some of them murmured a few words under their breaths, with their backs facing hers. A fishmonger in his early 50's walked nonchalantly past her, while pushing a trolley loaded with several Styrofoam boxes.

Ignoring the public's indifference of her arrival, Mikan's chocolate-brown eyes flashed in delight when the sight of an old woman, who looked anything but pleased, came into view.

"Good morning Mrs. Shoda!"

The woman in question grimaced as Mikan approached her. "There is nothing good in the morning Sakura!"

Placing her basket on the ground, Mikan bent down to look at the cartons of fishes before her. "Do you have any mackerels today? The cheap ones!"

Mrs. Shoda frantically made weird hand gestures in the air, which Mikan believed was the older woman's way of showing her annoyance. "Cheap? NO SAKURA MIKAN! You are not going to impose on my generosity any longer!"

Mikan jokingly pat Mrs. Shoda's back. "Don't be like that! Fishing mackerel is supposed to be lightweight right?"

"It's almost the winter season Sakura!" Mrs. Shoda cried, poking Mikan's head in an attempt to reiterate her point. "No one in their right minds will think that fishing is an easy job during this time of the year!"

"Oh mom," a shrill voice from behind interrupted. "Don't you pity her? A single mother at the age of 27 without any stable job."

Mikan blinked her eyes at the statement made by Mrs. Shoda's only daughter who also happened to be a former classmate of hers.

_Shoda Sumire._ What a great morning it was indeed.

Flicking the curled ends of her dark green hair, Sumire maliciously eyed Mikan, before waving her right hand in front of her face. "Fuyuta Town is sure getting polluted nowadays."

Mikan raised an eyebrow at her statement and scoffed, "Oh really? But I'm certain the air here wasn't that polluted a few moments ago."

"Are you implying that I'm a pest?

Tilting her head sideways and widening her brown orbs, Mikan mocked, "I don't remember myself implying that you are one."

"Well at least I didn't go around sleeping with a man who treat women as a baby factory," insulted Sumire.

"Why you bitch!"

Out of anger, Mikan hastily jumped at Sumire and grabbed her by the hair, which caused the latter to defend herself by doing the same thing. Mrs. Shoda put the effort to unlatch Mikan's grip from her daughter's, but failed when Sumire accidentally knocked her face, rendering her flat on the ground.

Covering her face with one of her hands, Mrs. Shoda pointed an accusing finger at Mikan and cried, "You ungrateful little witch! If it weren't for my mercy, you would have been thrown out of this town with that illegitimate son of yours!"

WHOOSH!

Shoving Sumire out of her sight, Mikan glared at Mrs. Shoda and replied, "If it weren't for me advertising your business, you wouldn't have earned even a single penny! Now, who should be the one begging for mercy?!"

Breathing in a ragged pace, Mrs. Shoda said, "It's no wonder why the father of your child left you!"

A few meters away, a man with fiery red eyes watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. Hyuuga Natsume rolled his eyes when the auburn haired woman - sporting pigtailed hairs at that - flung herself to the old one with a sea bass in hand, ready to strike.

"Say that again and you'll end up in the fryer with this sea bass!"

Natsume suppressed a small chuckle, but then began to suppress a laugh when his eyes travelled to the pigtailed girl's bohemian skirt to her polka dotted panties -

_Wait. P-p-polka dots?_

"That," began Natsume, still stifling a laugh under his breath, "must explain her sudden change from a cheerful and calm woman to a rampaging baboon just now."

Hyuuga Natsume took his attention away from the rumble when his so-called chauffeur gave him a light tap on his shoulders.

"Hyuuga-sama," he said, handing Natsume a brown folder, "according to your father, this contains details which will guide you through your first few weeks here in Fuyuta Town. And here's your luggage."

Sighing, Natsume said, "This 'helping' frenzy sure gives me enough reason to kick those company advisors once I get my share. Just stay here for a while."

The chauffeur offered Natsume a disturbed face, "B-but Hyuuga-sama! Your father instructe-!"

Before, the chauffeur could finish his sentence, Natsume started walking down the opposite road and bid goodbye, "I'll be back in a few hours!"

--

The first thing that crossed Natsume's mind when he landed rigidly in moist sand was how bitterly chilling the wind cut through his face. He thought about rubbing his palms against it to produce body heat, but in the end, he opted not to, sensing that his face had turned numb from the cold.

Fuyuta Town, at first sight, seemed peaceful - minus the bitch fight that welcomed him just after he set his feet on the cemented harbour - that he didn't see any reason why it required his help, or rather their company's help. The town's fishing industry was well-off, as far as he could tell, and their agricultural economy was pretty decent for a place situated North of Japan.

It bugged him, the company's motives, he meant.

PAT! PAT!

In addition to the sound of the waves rushing to and fro, Natsume's thoughts were disrupted when he heard several whimpered cries from beside him. Glancing sideways, he saw a sand castle being built by two small hands, both of which he noticed had turned a purplish colour.

Natsume's eyes lingered at the sight of a taupe gray-haired child who was preoccupied with filling the small red pail with sand, a plastic shovel in one hand. He looked over the child with half discomfort and half curiosity, wondering what kind of parent would be insensible enough to leave his son alone in an abandoned seashore, during autumn.

"Hey kid!" greeted Natsume, crouching beside the small boy.

It took a while for the younger one to look back at Natsume with his sombre feldgrau eyes and his tousled lilac-gray hair. Natsume had expected the child to take a handful of sand and throw it to his face, but the child paid no heed to Natsume's presence and instead focused more on that sandcastle of his.

"Kid," called Natsume, "you'll freeze to death if you stay here."

Silence met him, still.

Natsume lightly prodded the boy's shoulders. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Hey!" A little louder this time. "Can you even hear me?"

After brushing the sand off his leather shoes, Natsume extended his arms in order to carry the small child in front of him. He slung both of his hands under the child's arm and hugged the little thing close to his chest.

"Now, let's go find your mum, okay?"

Natsume felt a sense of pride run through him when the child in his temporary custody meekly nodded.

"So, intelligent young man, where exactly do you -"

An abrupt grumble escaped from Natsume's lips when he felt something damp and sharp hit his back. Quick, heavy footsteps registered in his ears, as the weight in his arms shifted uncontrollably.

_The poor guy must have been shocked._

"KIDNAPPER!"

Other than the female, murderous, sharp voice that impaired his hearing, the next thing that Natsume knew was a flying mackerel that slapped his right cheek. He instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around the child, as he carelessly dodged the attacks of the stranger.

Another fish - goddamit he didn't care what specie it belonged to! - caught his face and this one stung worse than the previous one.

"Ow!"

The attacker started breathing irregularly, which Natsume took as a chance to defend himself. Grabbing one of the attacker's wrists, he shouted, "HOLD YOUR HORSES WOMAN! You're being hysterical!"

Sakura Mikan swung her basket, aiming for Natsume's head. She was unsuccessful somehow, but the fact that he let go of her wrist, was enough for Mikan to smell a sense of victory.

"Pedophile! You let go of my son or you'll soon find yourself grilled the day before your funeral!"

_Now that sounded familiar._

It took a couple of seconds for Natsume to recover from the pain that shot through his shoulders.

Blinking his eyes a couple of times to clear his clouded vision, he stuttered, "The P-polka dots woman earlier?"

Hyuuga Natsume's fate has never been this weird.

**_-- TBC --_**

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Too long for a prologue, I hope you guys didn't mind.

I noticed that I didn't build up the characters as much as I wanted to in this prologue, but oh well.

Please review? And I'll give you a Natsume!robot that will succumb to all of your desires. :D

P.S. Fuyuta means rice field in winter.

15/8/08


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